MILK UDDERS, part 28 (Patreon)

Topless in front of the mirror, Bianka knew right away how different the aftermath of today’s battles was from the first night’s duel. As the previous time, the flesh of her large breasts exhibited a revealing redness from the constant, hard rubbing against Melania’s bosoms, but now the redness was deeper and more widespread, as if the black-haired woman’s fat weapons had gone out of their way to leave nothing unmarked. The crimson color of the friction glowed in a different way where traces of sticky, almost dried milk remained, and Bianka couldn’t help biting her seductive lower lip at the sight of such a reminder of her bitter defeat. There were also scratches from Melania’s sharp fingernails featuring on her glands where her nemesis had gripped them firmly, leaving a trail of tiny crescent imprints. Twisting her gesture, Bianka realized that, for at least several days, she couldn’t wear anything low-cut, nor could she let her mother see her in her underwear.

I don’t even know when I can stand a shirt touching my tits, she thought, shifting her torso from side to side to get a good look at her chest. Fucking Italian bitch…

At least she could take solace in the fact that her boobs still looked impressive in spite of everything, their striking size and firmness standing out as always. Even her long nipples, despite being smeared with humiliating milk secretions, stood incredible hard and erect, pointing slightly upward in a manifestation of feminine power. That reinforced her belief that she hadn’t lost because of her physical attributes and that, in a rematch, it would be Melania who wouldn’t stand a chance against her breasts and nipples.

“I can’t wait…” Bianka whispered revengefully to herself as she started to strip off the rest of her clothing. When she grabbed her white panties, she realized how soaked they were. She was fully aware of how much she had sweated in her catfights with Melania, but she couldn’t deny that down there was a different kind of wetness. Once again, she told herself that all that was only because of her carnal longing to be with Francesco, but a nagging doubt began to take root in her mind. The Austrian beauty recalled at that moment the heated, weird, short exchange of challenges and bragging that she and the brunette had had about who would milk who downstairs if they were lesbians, and she couldn’t help but blush as her crotch throbbed again at the mere thought of such a thing happening.

Shaking her head to ward off wild ideas, Bianka stepped into the shower and turned it on. The immediate shock of the cold water against her hot skin jolted her senses, making her gasp, but at least it pushed the more uncomfortable thoughts out of her mind. Closing her eyes, Bianka let her fingers roam the generous contours of her breasts, and there she felt every friction, every scratch. The milk that once flowed so fervently now resisted disappearing, clinging stickily to her skin just as defeat was attached to her thoughts. With some anger, Bianka pressed her boobs with her hands a little harder to clean them, but realized her mistake right away: a couple of powerful spurts of milk ejected from her stiff nipples, and the Austrian girl couldn’t help moaning loudly, her whole body trembling.

“Shit!” she cried out in incredulity. “What has that nasty whore done to me?”

Taking a soft, plush sponge for a more delicate approach, Bianka began to gently lather her boobs, and gradually managed to wash away the traces of milk and sweat from her firm flesh. The fear of pouring more liquid was still there, and Bianka wondered if Melania was also struggling with her milk production. The white-haired beauty didn’t know if the brunette had found Francesco or if she had even gone looking for him in her current state, but she felt a malevolent pleasure imagining the humiliation Melania would feel if the man saw her reddened, lacerated bosoms spurting milk just by touching them.

However, the thought of Melania and Francesco feeling each other carnally at that very moment also made her jealous side burn. As the cold water continued to wash over her, Bianka couldn’t help but wonder how Melania’s boobs looked when bared, free from the confines of clothing. The thought intrigued her, and her mind wandered further, imagining the rest of the Italian milmaid’s body. From what she had seen, Melania’s petite, clothed figure looked as curvaceous as hers, with a shapely, plump butt, wide hips and strong legs. In contrast to the dirty privileges that she had had with the brunette’s large breasts, Bianka hadn’t had a chance to feel those other assets to check how fit they actually were, but she feared that Melania also somehow managed to replicate her in each and every one of these physical virtues only to make her life even more complicated—if her archenemy proved to have a better body than her by even the smallest of margins, she wouldn’t know how to deal with it.

When Bianka stepped out of the shower ten minutes later, with her white skin tingling from the shock of the cold water and the complex whirlwind of emotions, she looked in the mirror and observed her reflection. Her body was now free of the remnants of milk, but the redness in her bosoms had become more pronounced. With a fluffy towel, Bianka carefully dried the whole body just before she picked up a jar of soothing moisturizing cream and began to apply it to her bust, her fingertips massaging gently as she bit her lower lip to stifle any moans. When she finished, she wrapped a small towel around her head to dry her hair, and went out into the living room to plop herself down on the couch. Exhaustion and relaxation after the shower took over her naked body almost immediately, and her eyelids soon felt heavy. Not even her desire for revenge could keep Bianka awake and, in a few minutes, she was asleep.

There was no mental rest, however, for even in the depths of her dreams Melania was waiting for her. The Italian milkmaid was standing in front of her, her smile arrogant and her eyes darker than ever. It took Bianka a while to realize that Francesco was next to her rival, his face turned towards the brunette with unconcealed passion. With a jealous pang in her heart, the blue-eyed woman turned her attention to Melania again, and couldn’t help but exhale a long gasp as she saw that the Italian beauty was slowly undressing. She could not look away as the clothes fell to the floor, revealing a body that was nothing short of perfection—her curves were breathtaking, but her gorgeous boobs looked devastatingly flawless, bigger and firmer than Bianka’s pair could ever be.

In a transition that only happened in dreams, Bianka suddenly found herself in Francesco’s bedroom, but that time it wasn’t her in bed with him. Over the sheets, the man’s naked body was fused in a sweaty embrace with Melania’s, and the two attractive young lovers were moving together in a passionate carnal dance. Bianka’s heart raced as she watched Melania riding Francesco, as she heard the echo of their moans and groans on the walls. She longed to look away, or jump over them to stop them, to somehow escape that suffering, but she was bound by an invisible force, compelled to witness the consummation of her fears.

The barking of Schnee woke her up. Startled, with her heart still pounding, Bianka jumped off the couch. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the towel had fallen from her head. Still groggy from the nightmare, she heard a car parking outside. Wondering who that might be, she noticed at that moment that beyond the windows the sun was already beginning to descend over the horizon.

“But how many hours have I…?” she started to say, but she fell silent when she heard a familiar voice outside.

“Not now, Schnee.” Her mother had returned, and was clearly not in a good mood. “Guys, please unload everything. Thank you very much.”

Aware that she was naked, Bianka ran to her bedroom. As quickly as she could, she covered herself with a wide white shirt and matching cotton shorts. The rubbing of the fabric against her breasts still bothered her, but she obviously wasn’t going to welcome her mother being topless. She emerged from her room just in time to see her mother enter the house, losing the door behind her with a tight-lipped expression on her face. Bianka didn’t have time to say anything as Schnee jumped towards her with joyful enthusiasm, wagging her tail excitedly. She greeted the female dog with a forced smile and a pat on the head. However, that didn’t change the tense atmosphere in the room—even if it wasn’t her mother, Bianka would know that she was very upset.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Sarah spat in an icy tone. “You leave me stranded in the town, without our car, right in the cattle fair.” She pointed outside. “I had to rely on the men I hired to bring me here. It’s embarrassing!” Bianka then saw that her mother was holding her cell phone in her hand. “You even left this in the stand,” she complained throwing it on the living room table. “How was I to know if anything had happened to you?”

“Mutti…” Bianka bit her lip, her own frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m sorry, but something urgent came up.”

“Yeah, go for a walk or whatever with Melania, right?” The words put Bianka on alert. “It’s clear your new friend also puts her own whims above her responsibilities. After all, she also left her mother alone at the fair.”

Shit! Melania’s absence filled Bianka’s heart with despair, for it was a step in the direction of her fears. She has fucked him!

“She didn’t…I was…” the young Austrian found herself mentally stuck.

“No excuses. Bianka, my dear, you’ve been acting strangely for the past couple of days,” Sarah continued, her irritated voice now with a growing hint of motherly concern. “You’ve been more distracted than ever, and I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been different.” Her eyes lowered to Bianka’s breast and, for a moment, the young woman feared nonsensically that she might see some residual milk. “For example, since when do you go out without a bra? At home, of course, but outside?” Her mother raised her hands. “Hey, I mean, I’m not complaining. That helped us a lot with sales today, but it’s not your style.”

“Well, maybe now it is,” Bianka said abruptly. Feeling the sensitive throbbing of her boobs, but most of all knowing everything she had to prove to Melania, she was sure that more bra-free days—and nights—were to come. “I’m not a little girl anymore, and I do with my tits whatever I want.”

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Words: 1852.